Author: Henry Homeyer

Stop and smell the daphne, peonies and viburnum

Do you remember your Grammy’s favorite rose? If you do, you probably remember how fragrant it was. One of my grandmother’s favorite plants was the peony named ‘Festiva Maxima.’ It is a double white with a drop of red in the middle. It’s in bloom now, with a fragrance so pleasant it almost makes me swoon. And even though she passed away in 1953, her peony has been divided and shared, and I have a piece of it, which I treasure.

My friend Nelia Sargent of Claremont, New Hampshire, is an excellent gardener, growing trees, shrubs, perennials and annuals. She specializes in plants with fragrant flowers because she has been blind since she lost her sight while in college decades ago. I called her recently to see what flowers please her the most in spring, summer and fall. Let’s take a look.

Spring: Early each spring one of Nelia’s first bloomers is a witch hazel named ‘Arnold’s Promise.’ Even though it is a Zone 5 plant (hardy to minus 20 degrees) and we are in a Zone 4 area, her home is within a mile of the Connecticut River, which tempers winters a bit. Arnold’s Promise blooms for her in April and, she said, one stem will fill a room with fragrance for up to two weeks in a vase.

Another favorite of hers is February daphne (Daphne mezereum), which blooms here in late March into April. It is a small shrub that is relatively slow-growing and short-lived. She says they are good for 10 years, but I’ve had one for 20. It is very fragrant and has lovely lavender flowers. All daphnes are fragrant and she also likes Daphne burkwoodii, which blooms in May.

Viburnums are also fragrant shrubs grown by Nelia. She particularly likes Viburnum judii and V. carlessii. The first, also called Judd’s viburnum, has semi-snowball bloom clusters that are pink in bud and white when open. It grows in full sun or part shade, as does Korean spice viburnum (V. carlessii). Both prefer well-drained rich soil in sun and stay a tidy 6- to 8-foot height and width. I grow the second and have had mixed luck with it: It is not always very generous with its blossoms, and does develop dead branches at maturity.

Summer: This is the season that has the most kinds of fragrant blossoms. Nelia has developed such a keen sense of smell that she was once invited to “smell test” and rate the lilacs at the Arnold Arboretum at Harvard.

Nelia told me that there are about 20 different fragrances from lilacs, each distinct. Her favorite lilacs are called ‘Sister Justina,’ ‘Gertrude Lesley’ and ‘Miss Kim.’ Miss Kim is often sold as a miniature, but it is really just slow-growing. Mine, now 25 years old, is about 12 feet tall and wide. The fragrance is lovely — I can smell it from 20 feet away, and on a sunny day it is loaded with butterflies and bees.

Then there are peonies. Properly planted, peonies last forever. And, as Nelia said, ”You can plant peonies for your heirs, but they yield immediately.” Purchase your peonies now, while in bloom at the garden center so you can see if they are fragrant — not all are — and see what they look like. Just don’t plant them so deep that their nibs or growing points are covered with more than an inch of soil, or they will not bloom in the future.

Nelia’s favorite peonies are Dawn Glow, Madame Deveronvale, Edulalis Superba (a very early deep pink), Festiva Maxima, Duchesse De Nemours and Carnation Bouquet (spicy, with a “carnation appearance”).

Mock orange (Philadelphus spp.) is a group of shrubs composed of about 20 species that are very fragrant. But they are a bit unruly and not suited for prime real estate in the garden. Nelia suggests planting them a bit away from the house and letting them naturalize. I’ve never grown it myself due to its spreading behavior.

Late summer and fall: Many fall flowers are big, tall, bright — but not very fragrant. Here are a few she likes.

Clethra: A nice shrub that likes moist places. She particularly likes ‘Ruby Spice,’ which is a reddish one.

Cohosh (formerly Cimicifuga spp., now included in the genus Actea): This plant has tall flower spikes that display drooping bottlebrush flowers. Bees absolutely love it. There is a black-leafed species that is quite distinctive called Hillside Black Beauty.

Seven Sons-Flower Tree (Heptacodium miconioides) starts blooming in September and may continue into October unless there is a bad frost. The blossoms are small and white and delicately fragrant. I grow it for the bark as well, which is exfoliating and interesting all winter.

So, if you like fragrant flowers, try some of Nelia Sargent’s favorites. All are wonderful.

Henry is the author of four gardening books and is a gardening consultant. He lives and gardens in Cornish Flat, N.H. Reach him at [email protected].

Featured photo: Close-up of February Daphne taken in late March. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

You don’t need a van, just a wheelbarrow

Once, a long time ago, I was sitting on a porch overlooking a landscape with an acquaintance. I commented that if she removed or thinned a line of tall pine trees, she would have a lovely long view.

“Great idea! I’ll have them moved,” she said. Even though she was a woman of means, I explained that it wouldn’t be possible to move 60-foot white pines. She should either live with them or cut some down.

On the other hand, I move shrubs and perennial flowers regularly. When it’s done right, a plant barely knows it’s been moved. I have a number of reasons for moving a plant.

First, if the plant is not growing well. Perhaps the tag on it said, “sun or part shade.” Well, what is part shade? I define full sun as five or six hours of afternoon sun. Morning sun is less hot, and a sun-lover might want some afternoon sun in addition to the morning sun.

Why else move a plant? We all change our minds. Or plants grow and start to crowd out their neighbors. We get new plants and decide to plant one where something else is already growing. Moving plants is a normal part of gardening.

I have a lovely shrub called Carolina sweetshrub or Calycanthus floridus. My reference book by Michael Dirr, Manual of Woody Landscape Plants, suggests planting it in sun or shade in deep moist loam. I planted it in full sun in deep, moist loam and the leaves burned that first summer. I assumed it had been grown in a shady place at the nursery, so figured it would be fine in Year 2. It was not. Its leaves burned again. So that fall I moved it to a shady spot.

For the next three years or more my sweetshrub did not burn up in summer, but neither did it flower much. I wanted those deep burgundy wine-colored blossoms, each more than an inch across. So I finally moved it again, this time under a pear tree that allowed filtered sunshine. Perfect! It has bloomed magnificently ever since.

My technique for moving a shrub is simple. I decide where it should go, and get the area ready by removing grass or plants and loosening the top layers of soil. Then I go to the plant in question with a drain spade that has a blade 16 inches long and only 5 inches wide. I slide it under the shrub on all four sides by thrusting the blade into the soil at a 45-degree angle. On each side I give the spade a gentle downward push to lift and loosen the shrub a little. By the fourth thrust it should be ready to lift out by sliding my two hands under the root ball.

I move the shrub into a waiting wheelbarrow and bring it to its new home. I measure the depth of the root ball and dig out a hole deep enough so that it will sit at the same depth it was at originally. I dig a wide hole so that the area around the shrub will be nicely loosened and ready for roots to grow in it once I backfill the hole. I water well that day and regularly all summer.

When I water a plant I have moved, I add something to the water: a capful (half a teaspoon) of something called “Superthrive” in a watering can of water. It was developed some 70 years ago and uses seaweed extracts and plant hormones to lessen transplant shock. I find it really helps. A small blurt of Neptune’s Harvest Fish and Seaweed fertilizer in the water adds some quick nutrition. I use both liquids on all my vegetables as I plant them, too.

Any plant that you planted this year can be moved now without damaging it. It takes several weeks before roots move far from their root ball. I don’t bother with a spade when moving new things. I use my CobraHead weeder, which is shaped like a long curved finger. It gets under the root ball easily, and by wiggling it around I can loosen the plant and gently lift it out, pulling from below with my CobraHead.

When I am moving an established perennial, I am more careful. Over the years, from experience and readings, I have learned much about the root systems of common perennials. You probably have, too. Some have roots near the surface while others are more like tubers that go deep.

Peony roots go deep and are not easy to move without breaking their fleshy tubers. Peony experts say to move them in the fall, when they are going dormant. But I once moved a hedge of peonies in June with about 50 plants, and not one showed ill effects.

It is best to move established perennials in the early evening, or on a cool or drizzly day. Some plants go into shock if disturbed in the heat of the day, so avoid doing so if you can. Others, like daylilies, don’t care at all about being moved on a hot dry day.

I recently was planting my front walkway garden and noticed a rudbeckia called ‘Prairie Sun’ that was too close to another plant, so I moved it at 11 a.m. on a hot day. After lunch the leaves were limp and it was in distress. My solution? I gave it another drink of Superthrive and placed an umbrella over it to provide shade. By the next morning it looked like it had never been moved!

So go ahead, move plants. Other than big trees, there are very few you can’t move.

Featured photo: Calycanthus or sweetshrub is a shade-loving shrub that I moved twice to find it a happy home. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Gather ideas from great green spaces

One of the best ways to learn how to create a lovely garden is to see others. Visit good gardens of neighbors, great gardens near and far. I recently visited three great gardens and, as always when viewing other gardens, they gave me much to consider. The gardens I visited were Bedrock Gardens in Lee, N.H., Chanticleer Gardens in Wayne, Pennsylvania, and Longwood Gardens in Kennett Square, Pennsylvania.

All these gardens had significant areas of lawn or meadow. I realize that lawns are not in favor, generally, among the pro-pollinator and bird crowd. But if you provide plenty of plants that support pollinators, I do not see lawns as bad. Each of these gardens has plenty of flowering trees, shrubs, perennials and annuals. Something is always in bloom, including both native plants and exotic ones.

So what does lawn accomplish? It provides contrast — a simple green palette — to show off the plants. Expanses of green are soothing to the eye. I can only focus on so many amazing plants before I get visually fatigued, much as I do when I visit an art museum.

Lawn also allows you to stand back to see the landscape from a distance. For trees, that is important. In a forested area, and all three of these gardens have them, individual trees are sometimes hard to see. They blend in with the others. But I need to stand back to look at a majestic beech or oak that towers 100 feet above me.

Bedrock Gardens only recently was deeded over from the original owners, Jill Nooney and Bob Munger, to the nonprofit that manages the property. Jill is an amazing sculptor who for over 30 years has created art to surprise and delight visitors to this 20-acre garden. Much of her art is painted welded steel that will delight visitors for the century ahead. She is the modern Alexander Calder of gardens.

Although I am not an artist, I do purchase and create art and whimsy for my own gardens, and you can, too. Look around at what you can use: a brass headboard from an abandoned bed; the rim of an old wagon wheel, a collection of stacked stones or a single tall standing stone buried in the ground. Stone always enhances a garden. Walls are expensive but almost worth their weight in gold.

Pathways are important to a great garden, too. They lead the visitor from one area to another. Placing art or even a bench at a distance pulls viewers forward, luring them to see what is ahead. Chanticleer has wonderful pathways through the woods that appear to be wood chips embedded in rubber. Very soothing to knees and feet.

My late sister, Ruth Anne Mitchell, taught me long ago when viewing art or gardens, “If you see a place to sit down, sit down.” So I do, and I find it enhances the experience of the garden. Not only am I less tired; often gardens surprise us with something special near a resting point. Perhaps you can design a special feature near a bench: rare and dainty plants or a small water feature.

All three of the gardens I visited made much use of water in the landscape. I am lucky enough to have a small stream that runs by my gardens. I built a bench near it, so I can listen to the burble of the water. And you can tune your brook: Place stones that hold back water, allowing it to cascade over them. Different drops create different sounds.

Years ago, for a New York Times article, I interviewed by phone the designer of the gardens at the Getty Museum in Los Angeles, Robert Irwin. He created a recirculating stream that crossed a path through a woodland area seven times. He told me he tuned it so that at each little bridge visitors would hear a different aquatic tune. Think of that if you have a stream on your property.

Color is very important in designing good or great gardens. I only got the eight-color box of crayons as a boy; my sister Ruth Anne got the 64-crayon box. But I have learned to appreciate all the nuances of color and how they go together. The best explanation of how colors go together — or don’t — is a book by garden writer Sydney Eddison: The Gardener’s Palette: Creating Color in the Garden (Contemporary Books, 2003, $30 in hardback). Get it if you can find a copy.

Great gardens like those at Longwood, an old DuPont family residence originally, recognize that color is important all year. But most shrubs and perennials only bloom for a few weeks. So they choose trees and shrubs that are not only sculptural in form but also have nuanced colors in their leaves. Green is not one color but many. Choose wisely.

Lastly, another way to present color all spring, summer and fall is to use annual flowers liberally. Many of these will keep on blooming in an effort to create seeds. Pots of annual flowers are used frequently in these great gardens. Pots place flowers closer to the viewer’s eye and can also be replaced with other pots if the flowers finish their displays or look a bit bedraggled.

So do visit other gardens this summer, whether at a local garden club tour or one of the fine gardens I mentioned here today.

Henry is a garden consultant and the author of four gardening books. He speaks often to garden clubs and library groups. Reach him at [email protected] or PO Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746.

Featured photo: Formal use of lawns and water at Longwood. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

All hail the tomato!

For me tomatoes are the best-tasting and most important vegetable I grow. I eat them raw in salads and sandwiches or cooked in soups and stews. I dehydrate some, I freeze many whole, and I make some sauce for quick dinners in winter. But they are not grown without difficulties — and sometimes heartbreak.

Heartbreak is rare. More than 10 years ago something called “late blight” came early and infected tomatoes all over New England. Plants blackened and died, and the fruits rotted quickly, becoming inedible.

Varieties of tomatoes have been bred to resist late blight since that fatal summer. The only one I have grown is called ‘Defiant,’ developed by Johnny’s Selected Seeds. It is a nice F-1 hybrid with 4- to 6-ounce fruits that appear early. It is a determinate tomato, which means that it produces a crop, then dies. Indeterminate varieties keep on producing until frost or blight kills them.

Of lesser portent is ‘early blight.’ Except for first-time gardeners, we all get it. It causes lower leaves to darken and dry up, but fruit is produced until all the leaves are gone. You can minimize this problem by mulching under your tomatoes with grass clippings or chopped fall leaves. You should do that now. Unlike late blight, early blight survives our winters in the soil, and splash from hard rains or watering gets it onto the leaves.

Other fungal diseases are common but can be minimized by spacing your plants well so they are not crowded. I use 24-inch spacing between plants and that seems adequate. It allows good sunshine on the leaves and breezes to keep the plants healthier.

To minimize diseases, don’t get the leaves of your tomatoes wet if you can avoid it. Avoid overhead watering devices, even though they are convenient. I use a watering wand to water my veggies as it allows me to direct the water just where my plants need it. It saves water, too, as I am not watering the walkways — and encouraging weeds there. The brand I like best is Dramm. Theirs allow good flow but are gentle on the plants.

By now most of you have planted your tomatoes. If you haven’t, and if you think this will be a hot, dry summer, plant them deep in the soil. You can bury the root ball 6 inches down or more, and the stem will grow roots in the cooler, moister soil down deep.

Tomato plants need support. Forty years ago or so, when I was less experienced than I am now, I tried just putting straw on the ground and letting my tomatoes flop over and lay on the ground. I had heard it would work just fine, but it didn’t. It was harder to weed, and the tomatoes were more prone to rot.

Now I use tomato cages. They are an investment but last for 20 years or more, especially if you store them in the barn for winter. Get the biggest ones you can find. Generally that means a wire cage that has four legs (not three) and is 54 inches tall. These cages need to be pushed into the ground at least 6 inches so they will not tip over. If you have rocky soil you may have to try several positions before you can install it deep enough.

Alternatively, you can buy 5- or 6-foot hardwood stakes. These are one-inch-square stakes that come with a pointed end that you can drive into the soil with a hammer — small rocks or not. But you have to tie your tomatoes to the stakes as they grow up. You can use old rags to tie them on, or sisal twine. Don’t use plastic twine as the vines may get damaged when they are loaded with heavy tomatoes. You may need to tie your tomatoes onto cages, too.

Throughout the summer you should prune out excess “suckers” that grow between the main stalk and a branch. These are just little shoots that develop into branches that clutter up the interior of your plant. They can shade out leaves and encourage diseases. If your plants get too tall in late summer, cut off the tops. This will keep the plants in their cages and putting their energy into producing fruits, not growing taller.

I grow at least a dozen Sun Gold cherry tomato plants each year. Each plant produces more tomatoes than I can count (even if I take off my socks to use both my fingers and toes). They are supremely tasty fresh, and are great dried and saved for soups and stews. I cut each tomato in half and use a food dehydrator to get it ready for storage. Later, I add them to soups, stews — and even scrambled eggs.

Big tomatoes can be frozen whole and stored in zipper bags, or chopped and stored in quart jars in the freezer. They aren’t suitable for sandwiches, but they are organic and tasty in cooked dishes.

If you freeze tomatoes whole, all you need to do is make sure they are clean. When you take them out of the freezer, you can remove the skins easily if you want by running them under hot tap water and rubbing gently.

No matter what I do with tomatoes, they always add flavor to any dish. I can’t wait for this season’s crop to be ready.

Henry is a UNH Master Gardener and the author of four gardening books. Reach him at [email protected]. He lives in Cornish Flat, NH.

Featured photo: Primula vialii is not commonly sold, but is wonderful. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Make a plan before you go shopping

I’m a sucker for a good-looking flower. Back when I was first developing my flower beds I would go to a plant nursery and grab everything and anything that was in bloom and looking great. And I believe in buying multiples: not one plant, but three or five! Needless to say, I was in trouble when I got home and looked for a place to plant them. I needed to create new beds for each truckload of perennials I brought home. Even so, I couldn’t help myself.

Now I am more judicious when I go shopping for plants: I decide ahead of time what I need, and how many. I decide where they will go before I leave home. Still, a few plants seduce me with their beauty every time I arrive at a good greenhouse.

By the way, I’ve heard from many gardeners that some of their perennials, trees and shrubs were damaged by a hard frost in May. Leaves that turned brown will not recover — but will be replaced. I am cutting damaged stems of perennials back to the ground and they should re-sprout. Trees and shrubs that have gone through the winter and leafed out are hardy here and should send out new leaves on their stems, even if they don’t bloom this year. They have dormant buds that will wake up, and plenty of energy in their roots. I won’t bother taking off the dead leaves. So stop worrying if yours got frost-damaged.

Peonies, primroses and barrenwort (which is usually referred to by its scientific name, Epimedium) are blooming in my gardens. I recommend that you buy these now, while in bloom, so you know what you are getting — and if you like them as much as I do.

Some peonies are highly fragrant, others not at all. Some have blossoms with many petals (called doubles) while others have just one or two rings of petals (called singles). Doubles are magnificent but often flop when it rains, sometimes breaking their stems. So you need to tie them to stakes or support them in wire cages made for the task. If you see both kinds in bloom, you can decide what you want to buy.

Most plants have a finite lifespan, but peonies seem to last forever. I have a division of one that was my grandmother’s — and she died in 1953. So plant them well: I dig a wide hole and add compost to it, along with some organic fertilizer — which is naturally slow release. Full sun is best, but they will do OK with 4 to 6 hours of sunshine.

Peonies can be fussy: don’t cover the little growing points beneath the soil with more than ¾ of an inch of soil, or they probably will not bloom. If yours don’t bloom, remove some soil from around them as they are probably too deeply planted.

Primroses, generally, do well in partial to full shade. Some do well in dry soil, but most like moist, rich soil. Read the plant tag carefully before planting. Sometimes I will try a plant in one place, and if after a year or two it is not performing well I move it. Sometimes I move a plant more than once to find the right place for it.

Arlene Perkins of Montpelier, Vermont, is an expert grower of primroses. She told me long ago that all primroses like to grow under old apple trees. The partial shade is right for most, and the soil is naturally enriched by dropping leaves and fruit over time. It is under a cluster of old wild apples that I have had my best luck with primroses, particularly the candelabra or Japanese primrose (Primula japonica). They have multiplied by seed and root from a few planted 20 years ago to over 500 plants, I estimate.

Last year I planted many Primula viallii (no common name) in the perfect growing conditions for them. They bloomed magnificently last summer but so far not one has shown up again. The blossoms are very different from any I know: like little red-topped elf caps over pink/purple bases. It said to self-sow, and it is early yet, so I might see some yet.

Lastly, I love barrenwort or Epimedium. I have about eight different species or varieties of Epimedium, and all are wonderful. Epimedium grow in light to deep shade and do fine under deciduous trees, despite the competition from tree roots for moisture and minerals. My resource books tell me they do best in moist soils, but I grow them routinely in fairly dry soils. I think rich soil is the key, not the amount of moisture.

The common red one (Epimedium rubrum) blooms early in spring but hides its flowers under its leaves, which I don’t like. But it forms such a dense shade cover with its handsome leaves that no weeds will grow under it — so I forgive it.

The colors I grow range from pure purple to red to pink to white, with others a variety of yellows. Again, I suggest buying them in bloom — now — so you can see if the blossoms are prominent above the leaves, or hidden below. The common red one (Epimedium rubrum) blooms early in spring but hides its flowers under its leaves, which I don’t like. But it forms such a dense shade cover with its handsome leaves that no weeds will grow under it — so I forgive it.

I like “collecting” different varieties of plants I like and seeing the differences between different kinds. If one kind does well, its cousins probably will, too. So go buy more of your favorites!

Henry is a UNH Master Gardener and the author of four gardening books. Reach him at [email protected]. He lives in Cornish Flat, NH.

Featured photo: Primula vialii is not commonly sold, but is wonderful. Photo by Henry Homeyer.